


I'm Not Saying It's Aliens, But...

by Brumeier



Category: Ancient Aliens, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alien Abduction, Alternate Universe, Conventions, Established Relationship, First Meetings, M/M, Post-Coital
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 16:11:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14596746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/pseuds/Brumeier
Summary: This convention has everything: first-time attendees, alien abduction stories, karaoke, behind-the-scenes romance, and some unexpected job opportunities.





	I'm Not Saying It's Aliens, But...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smiles2go](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smiles2go/gifts).



[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/156598319@N08/41287504824/in/dateposted-friend/)

**DeChancie Convention Center, Main Hall**

“I’m so excited you’re here!” Leah hugged Kay, who hugged her back twice as hard.

They’d been online friends for ages and were finally meeting at the Out There Space Convention. It was Kay’s first time at a con and she was so excited. As a space nerd, it was the perfect one for her to attend. There was a nice mix of real science and science fiction, plus a bona fide astronaut hero would be giving a talk.

“I’m so glad you talked me into this.” Kay looked around the main hall, which was full of people wearing Giorgio t-shirts and Star Trek t-shirts and Wormhole X-treme! t-shirts. Some were even wearing costumes. “These are my people!”

“We’re gonna have the best weekend,” Leah said. She tucked her arm through Kay’s and led her toward the vendor room. “But first we need to buy some swag. You need an official con t-shirt.”

“Oh my god, I really do!”

Kay had spent so much money just getting there, but she didn’t care how many extra shifts she had to pull when she got back home. She was treating herself.

“Once we buy some stuff, we can look at the schedule and plot out what we want to see.”

“Colonel O’Neill. I have to see him.”

“We’ll prioritize your astronaut husband for sure,” Leah agreed with a grin. “Now let’s shop!”

**Hall B: Close Encounters (Moderator: Cam Mitchell)**

Cam took another pull off the water bottle, and wished he was drinking something with a high volume of alcohol in it. The hall was three quarters full and it seemed like everyone had an encounter they wanted to share. He was pretty sure only about 1% of them were true.

“And the lizard man told me an apocalypse was coming, and I think he was talking about Donald Trump.”

There were several questions from the audience for the woman on stage, ranging from ‘What type of scales did he have?’ to ‘Did he touch you sexually?’ 

Cam definitely needed something stronger than water.

Why were so many abduction stories sexual in nature? Highly advanced alien cultures traveled across the universe just for a human booty call? Cam didn’t buy it. Medical probes were one thing – or the microbes that had been injected into him during his own abduction, which enabled him to understand people no matter what language they were speaking – but alien sex? That was some next-level kinky shit. People were weird.

Cam was so lost in thought he didn’t see Vala get on stage on until she started talking, and then it was too late to drag her off.

“To be clear,” she started off. “I was completely naked.”

Every fucking time. Vala liked to mess with the participants, telling a story that had more to do with rapey fan fiction than reality. This time it was some blue-skinned alien goddess who was particularly skilled at cunnilingus. As alien porn went, Cam had to admit it was pretty hot stuff. But it didn’t even flirt with reality.

Still, Vala got enthusiastic applause before she hopped off the stage, pigtails bouncing.

“Was that really necessary?” Cam asked when she snagged his water.

“Look how happy it made them,” Vala said with a wide gesture. “Most of them are probably virgins. I’ve just given them something new to fantasize about.”

“Or, and just go with me on this, maybe one time you could tell the real story.”

Vala rolled her eyes, but Cam knew her well enough to see the way her lips thinned, just a little, and the tension that slipped into her shoulders.

“That old thing? No-one cares about that.”

Cam didn’t miss the way Vala’s hand drifted briefly over her abdomen, and he knew he couldn’t push. She came to every convention, always put in an appearance at Cam’s groups. He felt sure one day she’d finally feel brave enough to tell her abduction story. Even if that day wasn’t today.

“You want to get lunch after?” Cam asked.

“If you’re buying,” Vala replied. She gave herself a little shake, and just like that she was back to her usual sassy self. “And if there’s a bar.”

“Definitely a bar,” Cam agreed. 

“The entity had several long tentacles.” The man who’d taken Vala’s place on stage was heavy-set and sported a pretty impressive beard. “It used them to probe me.”

It was going to be a long time till lunch.

**Grand Ballroom: The Science of Wormhole X-Treme! (Presenter: Dr. Rodney McKay, Wormhole X-Treme! Technical Advisor)**

Rodney loved doing presentations in front of large groups. All those insipid faces hanging on his every word, knowing he was the smartest man in the room. It didn’t hurt that the show was so popular and always drew a big crowd.

The Q&As, though. He really hated the fucking Q&As.

“Wormholes can’t be both predictable and stable,” said the guy with the spiky hair at the microphone. “So your science is kind of bullshit.”

“And you are?”

“John. Big fan of the show.”

Rodney nodded. “Do you have a degree in physics?”

“Nope.” The guy smirked at him. The lighting wasn’t good, but Rodney could see how attractive he was. “But I know how to read. Buniy and Hsu don’t think wormhole travel is possible.”

“And they’re right. Obviously, wormhole travel is impossible given our current level of technology.” Rodney leaned forward on the podium, all his focus on Mr. Spiky Hair, whose name he’d already forgotten. “That doesn’t mean we’re not working on a way to make that happen. On the show, the Star Portals are a tool to both stabilize and direct wormholes. I believe we can make that a reality.”

“That’s your opinion.”

“No, that’s science. And reading one paper on the subject doesn’t make you an expert.” Rodney pointed a finger at the guy. “I was working on wormholes when you were still doing…whatever kids with mid-range IQs do. Drag-racing? Surfing? Making out at drive-ins?”

The guy huffed out a laugh. “Sure. Kids in the 1950s.”

Rodney waved a hand at him. “Whatever. Bottom line: I’m right and you’re wrong. Next question?”

He looked at the line of people waiting to talk to him, but Mr. Spiky Hair didn’t seem inclined to move on.

“I have one more question. What are you doing after this?”

The crowd erupted into wolf whistles and cat-calling, and Rodney flushed.

“Not funny,” he said.

The guy shrugged and gave up the microphone, and Rodney got on with the Q&A. But when he finished and took his time packing up his laptop while the attendees filed out, Mr. Spiky Hair was still there, sprawled out in a chair in the front row.

“Come on, Doc,” he said. “Have lunch with me.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

Rodney found it hard to argue with that logic.

**Hall H: Author Signings (Giorgio Tsoukalos, Dr. Daniel Jackson, Aiden Ford)**

“Can you please make that out to Kay?” the young girl asked.

_To Kay, never stop believing in the unbelievable, Daniel Jackson_

“Oh my god, thank you so much!” The girl, who had a fifty percent chance of being the Kay in question, clutched the book to her chest and stepped out of line.

The next person in line was a tall, slim man who had a copy of Daniel’s first book, _Aliens of Ancient Egypt_.

“Do you really think aliens had a role in developing human culture?” the guy asked.

Daniel looked pointedly at the book. “Yes. Would you like this personalized?”

“No. I’m gonna sell it on ebay.”

Not a fan, then. Daniel just scrawled his name and moved the guy along. He grinned when he saw who was next in line.

“Stephanie! You came!”

“I’d never miss it, Dr. J,” Stephanie replied. She was eight years old, and quite possibly Daniel’s biggest fan. Her parents were regular convention attendees, so they’d interacted at several other cons in the past.

Daniel happily posed for a selfie with her.

“So how did you like the new book?” Stephanie had brought it with her to be signed. _Stargates: Portals to Other Worlds_.

“I think it’s really cool! Like, it makes sense that the aliens would have a way to get here fast, right?” Stephanie leaned on the table. “I told my mom I want to go see the Temple of the Three Windows. Your pictures from Machu Picchu were so cool!”

“It was pretty cool being there,” Daniel agreed.

_To Stephanie, my biggest and best fan and partner in seeking out the truth, Daniel Jackson_

“You think Einstein was right, about wormholes?”

“I do. And I think once we can work out how to travel through them, we’ll be able to make contact with the aliens that visited here in the past.”

Stephanie nodded. “Why do you think they stopped coming?”

“Well, I think they got us started and then stepped back to see what we’d do with what they gave us.”

It wasn’t a popular opinion, Daniel knew that. The legitimate archeology community had pretty much shunned him, but he was perfectly fine with living on the fringes because he knew he was right. And someday the rest of the world would realize the same and he’d be vindicated.

“I don’t think we’re doing such a good job,” Stephanie said.

Daniel nodded. “There’s definitely room for improvement.”

Eventually there were no more people in line and Daniel was able to relax. He’d signed his name countless times, had his picture taken almost as much, and chatted up everyone who had questions for him.

The young guy at the table next to him was eating a salad out of a black to-go container. Daniel knew him from a scifi con they both presented at the year before. Aiden had been on a show that ran for four seasons, something about a Marine taken to another galaxy and experimented on by aliens, who then turned into a kind of super-powered space vigilante. This year he was promoting the book he’d written about his time working on the show.

“Nice crowd this year,” Aiden said, nodding at Daniel.

“People really seem to like your book.”

“Not as much as his.” The kid gestured with his fork. Giorgio’s line was still out the door. “How does that dude get so much play?”

“I wish I knew.” 

Giorgio Tsoukalos was a so-called Ancient Astronaut theorist, and his answer for everything was aliens. Every mystery in the entirety of human history had aliens at the root of it, according to him. And yet he was like some kind of celebrity, with crazy hair that stuck straight up. Women in particular were crazy for him.

Giorgio caught them looking and waved at them. Daniel and Aiden waved half-heartedly back.

“Smug bastard,” Aiden said.

"You know what he got his degree in? Sports communication.” Daniel shook his head. The guy wasn’t a serious academic, and yet his face was constantly on television because somehow he’d become an “expert” on the so-called history of aliens in human culture.

Daniel’s claims were backed by actual historical and archaeological fact.

“You goin’ for lunch?” Aiden asked when Daniel got up and slipped his messenger bag over his shoulder.

“Yeah. Get you anything?” 

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll keep an eye on your table.”

Daniel left the hall and headed for the café, and then someone was dragging him into an alcove concealed by a large potted plant. He’d have protested if he wasn’t having the breath kissed right out of him.

“Nice to see you, too,” he gasped.

“You look good,” Jack said. 

“Not as good as you.” Jack was wearing green BDU pants and a black t-shirt. Daniel ran a finger over the dog tags that hung around Jack’s neck. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you this time.”

“Pulled some strings,” Jack said. He stayed pressed up against Daniel. “Got a room next door. You interested?”

“I can’t, not till after four.” Daniel was always interested.

“Works for me.”

Jack kissed him again, hot and wet, and Daniel was embarrassingly hard by the time he was done.

“Keep that up and you’re going to have to take me right here.”

“Never took you for an exhibitionist,” Jack said with a raised eyebrow. He cupped Daniel through his jeans.

“You make me crazy,” Daniel groaned.

“See you at four.”

Jack slipped out of the alcove, and Daniel had to take a minute or five to get himself back under control. Maybe this would be the year he convinced Jack that they could make things work on the regular, and not just as a con hookup. Maybe.

**Grace Ballroom: Taking the Space Program Into the Future (Presenter: Col. Jack O’Neill, Spacelab 1 Mission Commander)**

Kay was nervous. It was her first convention and she was having a great time, but somehow she’d let her friend Leah talk her into joining the Q&A line at Colonel O’Neill’s panel. As exciting as it had been to meet Dr. Jackson, who was so much cuter in person than on his book jackets, Colonel O’Neill was a bona fide hero. He’d been part of the early Challenger missions, had actually been in space.

She was gonna be sick.

The line moved slowly because there was a duplicate on the other side of the room and Colonel O’Neill was alternating taking questions from each line. Kay almost wished that someone would ask her same question so she could duck back to her seat.

No such luck. Eventually Kay was at the head of her line, waiting for the guy in the other line to ask his question.

“Hi, Colonel. I’m Henry from Chicago, and here’s my question. On your space missions, did you ever see something you couldn’t explain?”

“Aliens, right?” Colonel O’Neill shook his head. “No, I never saw any little green men. I had to be pretty focused on the job at hand, so even if there were I wouldn’t have seen them unless they knocked on the window and waved at me.”

There was laughter from the audience.

“I did see some amazing things, though. The Earth from orbit, for one. The surface of the moon. All that big black that surrounds us. We haven’t even hit the tip of the iceberg when it comes to space exploration.” Colonel O’Neill took a sip of water. “Do I think there could be aliens out there? Sure. The universe is a big place and I wouldn’t presume we’re the be-all, end-all. Let's face it, that's a pretty depressing thought.”

And then the moment was on Kay, because he was looking right at her. She rubbed her sweaty palms on her jeans and cleared her throat, wincing when the microphone picked it up and amplified it.

“Um. Hi. Kay from Indiana. I was reading that this is your sixth time presenting at Space Con, and I wondered if that was something you’re really into, or if NASA kind of makes you go.”

Okay, that sounded really dumb when she said it out loud. Kay was glad all the lights were on stage so no-one could see how red her face was. 

"Good question, Kay from Indiana." Colonel O'Neill smiled at her. "I'll admit, I was volun-told for the first con. Not what you'd call an eager participant. But then I met people like you, and some of the other presenters, and I learned to appreciate your...enthusiasm. Now I come every year, to this con and some others. Not as cool as piloting a space shuttle, but I'm having fun."

He took another question, this one about whether or not government funding for NASA should be continued, and Kay returned to her seat.

"You were awesome!" Leah whispered. "He totally smiled at you!"

"I know!"

Kay wished the Colonel was giving autographs, because she would've been the first in line to get one.

**Hall D: The Future is Now, Sponsored by Far Horizons (Presenter: Dr. Elizabeth Weir, Far Horizons)**

Elizabeth shut down her laptop and disconnected it from the projector. Her presentation had gone smoothly, and the audience members had asked some really thoughtful and incisive questions. When they weren't asking about alien encounters.

Most of the crowd was filing out, on their way to the next presentation or maybe to get an autograph or a picture with that self-proclaimed alien specialist from the History Channel. But the one person she most wanted to see was sitting in the front row, leg jiggering up and down.

Elizabeth slid her laptop into its case and then left the dais to sit in the front row as well. "Thank you for coming."

Dr. McKay held up a slip of paper. "I got your note. A bit old school for someone who works for Far Horizons, don't you think? You could just as easily have texted me."

"I don't have your number," Elizabeth suspected it would take a better team of hackers than she had on staff to get through the layers of encryption McKay had crafted. "And it's easier to ignore a text."

"So what do you want?"

Elizabeth grinned. She'd heard McKay was a prickly, no-nonsense kind of guy, and appreciated that she could get right to the point.

"I'm here to offer you a job," she said. She handed McKay a business card that had a salary offer scribbled on the back.

"I have a job," McKay replied. Then he flipped the card and gave a low whistle. "Not as well-paying at this one, though. Why the sudden interest in me? I'm no less of a genius than I was when _Wormhole X-Treme!_ picked me up."

Elizabeth nodded. The last time McKay had been on the market, legitimate research and development companies had been slow to show their interest – he had a reputation as being extremely difficult to work with – and he'd ended up working on that ridiculous show.

"We've made some big strides, Dr. McKay," Elizabeth explained. "Now we need someone with your experience and ability to think outside the box to move the project ahead."

"The space station," McKay clarified. He had a pretty good poker face, but Elizabeth thought she heard some interest in his voice.

"Atlantis Station, yes."

Far Horizons was a privately-funded company that was working to find solutions for the problems of overpopulation and dwindling natural resources. While NASA had to fight for funding, Far Horizons had it flowing in from extremely wealthy donors who wanted to ensure a place on the space station once it was operational. It was Elizabeth's job to make sure they had the brilliant minds they needed to make that dream a reality. And to keep those brilliant minds on track.

"I'm not interested in being just another drone."

"You'd be the head of your department."

"I have medical concerns."

"We'd remove all traces of citrus from the facility."

McKay nodded. He flipped the business card from finger to finger and back again. "I'd be willing to sit down with you and have a serious discussion about your expectations and what specifically I'd be working on."

"I can have an NDA prepared within the hour," Elizabeth said.

"I have a lunch date."

Elizabeth plucked the business card out of his hand and flipped it face up. "Here's my number. Text me when you're ready. I think it’s time you got back to the real science, don’t you?"

She stood up and McKay followed her lead. They shook hands and she left him standing there, a contemplative expression on his face. She was sure he'd eventually agree to join the team.

**Rear Terrace: Presenter Lounge/Dining Area**

“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind,” John said. 

He’d wanted to take Rodney to lunch somewhere nice, and maybe a little more private than the open-air terrace populated by the other convention presenters and staff. 

"Why? Food's good," Rodney said with his mouth full.

John looked dubiously at Rodney’s plate, which was loaded up with pizza that had a closer resemblance to cardboard and some kind of pasta salad. The convention center wasn’t exactly known for its fine cuisine, though the prices they charged said otherwise.

“So, uh. It must be pretty exciting, working on the show.”

Rodney shrugged. “It’s okay. Nothing world-changing there, of course, though I suppose it my strict adherence to good science inspires others it’s all worthwhile.”

“Strict adherence? What about last season’s finale?”

“Why does everyone bring that up? You know, there has to be some leeway for the storytelling. Not everyone watches for the science, which _most of the time_ is extremely accurate.”

John liked the way Rodney’s eyes gleamed and his face flushed when he got all worked up. That happened on every behind-the-scenes clip that they did, too, because someone inevitably made a comment about junk science. John may have watched some of those more than once.

“Well, I mean, the whole concept of wormholes is –”

“Is proper science that our technology hasn’t caught up to, and I’m really done defending that thank you very much.”

John grinned, picking at his sandwich. He wasn’t really hungry, but lunch seemed like a good way to get some time alone with Rodney. That was the sole reason he’d worked so hard to get to the convention.

“You know,” John said. “I enjoy your live Twitter feed when the episodes air. Are you really that angry?”

Rodney sputtered. “I’m not angry! All caps is for emphasis, I’ll have you know. And I can’t help it if people make stupid comments, but someone has to enlighten them. Idiots.”

It was amazing that the show still let him have an account. No-one called out a troll quicker than Rodney McKay, but he had also famously dissed his own show on more than one occasion.

“So what is it you do, besides hang around conventions and ask idiotic questions?” Rodney asked.

“You could say I’m a chauffeur,” John replied. “I do a lot of transporting.”

What was strictly true, but John didn’t want to talk about himself or his job. And if Rodney found out where he worked there would undoubtedly be questions.

“Good looking guy like you?” Rodney gave him a very thorough once over that made John glad he was half hidden behind a table. “I’d have thought you were an actor or a model or something. Chauffeur? That’s a waste of your time.”

“It’s even worse than that,” John said. “I’m a chauffeur with a Master’s degree.”

He’d meant it as a joke, but Rodney’s pitying look turned positively predatory and John wondered if he’d just made a big mistake.

“What in? Please don’t say Phys Ed.”

“Combinatorics.” 

Rodney abruptly stood up and grabbed John’s tray. “Let’s go.”

“Go? Where?”

“Somewhere with more privacy. Why didn’t you tell me you were a mathematician? That changes everything!”

John trailed after Rodney, who bused both trays and made a beeline for the exit. He wasn’t sure what was happening, but he hadn’t intended to put such a quick end to lunch. He’d wanted to spend a little more time with Rodney.

“Changes what?”

“I don’t hook up with anyone that has less than a Master’s, and even then they have to have majored in something besides art or philosophy or other equally stupid specialties.”

John was pretty sure his brain short-circuited, because what? Hook up? 

“I have a room at the hotel next door. I assume that will be acceptable?”

“Hey, I wasn’t trying to rope you into anything,” John protested. “Lunch was just lunch, not a prelude to getting naked.”

That stopped Rodney in his tracks. He turned and looked at John, brow furrowed. “So you don’t want to have sex?”

“Oh. Well, I mean. I wouldn’t say no. But I wasn’t fishing for that.”

Rodney’s expression cleared. “Good. Let’s go.”

John let out a breath and followed, desire bubbling just beneath his skin. He was going to have sex with Rodney McKay, technical advisor on his favorite show and one hell of a good-looking guy. He figured his day couldn’t get much better than that.

**Hampton Inn, Room 434**

Daniel lay spread-eagled on the bed, boneless and panting. He always got the best cardio when he was with Jack, who might be older but certainly hadn’t slowed down. He wondered if the sex would be as good if they were having it every day and not just a couple times a year.

Jack came out of the bathroom and dropped a warm, wet washcloth on Daniel’s spent cock with a splat. “Move over, bed hog.”

Daniel reluctantly made room for Jack on the bed and, since he was moving anyway, cleaned himself up with the washcloth. Without his glasses on everything was kind of fuzzy at the edges but he still managed to throw the washcloth just inside the bathroom door.

“Nice shot.”

“You’re lucky I’m even capable of speech,” Daniel replied. He propped himself up against the pillows, hip to hip with Jack. The man was insanely sexy and Daniel couldn’t keep his hand from roaming up and down Jack’s hairy leg.

“That a challenge, Danny?” Jack raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe.” Daniel took a deep breath. “Can we talk?”

“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing?” Jack’s tone was light and teasing, but Daniel could feel him go stiff and tense. 

“It’s just…as much as I enjoy these clandestine rendezvous –”

“You met someone else, right?” Jack pulled away. “I knew it would happen. God, my timing sucks.”

“No, it’s not that. There’s no-one else.” As if anyone could hold a candle to Colonel Jack O’Neill in this or any other world. Daniel couldn’t imagine being with someone else.

“Then why does this feel like goodbye?”

Jack got off the bed and started pacing around the room, and Daniel was momentarily distracted by the play of muscle in his legs and ass.

“Look, I know we’ve got a good thing going here. But it’s not enough for me anymore.” Daniel sat cross-legged on the bed. “I don’t want to see you two or three times a year. I want to see you every day. I want to come home and have dinner with you. Spend the weekend fishing or just sitting around reading the paper together. I want a life with you, Jack.”

His heart was hammering in his chest. Daniel knew he was taking a risk. DADT was a thing of the past, but military minds could be slow to change. On top of that, Jack was a national hero, NASA’s poster boy for the space program. There were certain expectations that went along with that. Daniel knew all that, but deep down he wanted Jack to pick _him_ , to choose their relationship as the most important thing. It was selfish, but he couldn’t help the way he felt.

Jack stopped pacing and stood at the end of the bed, arms crossed. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“I do. For a long time.”

Jack’s expression softened, and the affection Daniel could see there loosened something in his chest.

“I was gonna wait to tell you. Maybe over dinner, somewhere with a little more ambiance.” He started crawling up the bed and didn’t stop until he was straddling Daniel, resting his ass on Daniel’s thighs.

“Tell me what?”

“I’m getting out. Going private sector. Far Horizons made me an offer I can’t refuse.”

“Getting out? You mean retiring?”

“Yeah.” Jack leaned down, pressed a chaste kiss to Daniel’s lips. “It won’t be for another month or so, but…maybe we could talk about a more permanent arrangement?”

Daniel couldn’t help the grin spreading across his face. He stroked his hands down Jack’s sides and across his back and imagined getting to wake up with him every morning and go to bed with him every night. And not having to hide it.

“Permanent sounds pretty damn good to me.”

They kissed again, deep and dirty and full of promise for things to come, and Daniel found himself getting impossibly aroused again. Jack reached between them and took Daniel’s semi-hard cock in hand.

“Now, about that challenge…”

**The Pink Slipper Bar and Karaoke Lounge (Reserved for Convention Presenters and VIP Attendees)**

Cam finally had his alcoholic beverage, but he was afraid it wasn’t strong enough. Or maybe it was too strong. Maybe he was having a drunken hallucination.

“Can you repeat that?”

“I said I’d like to hire you,” Dr. Weir said. Again.

She was sitting tall and elegant on the stool next to Cam, a dirty martini in one hand and an expectant expression on her face.

“Not that part,” Cam replied. “The other thing.”

“We’d like to study the microbes you’ve been injected with. The applications of a universal translator like that would be very lucrative for Far Horizons.”

Yeah. That was the part Cam was trying to wrap his head around. Dr. Weir was the face of Far Horizons, one of the company’s founding members, and she was all about the science. In Cam’s experience, people like her mostly made fun of people like him. Alien abductees.

“You do know how crazy you sound right now?”

Dr. Weir pulled the olives out of her drink and slid them slowly off the skewer with just the edges of her teeth. “Mr. Mitchell, I would be foolish to believe that we are alone in the universe. And you have more than demonstrated your ability to understand languages both foreign and dead. Why shouldn’t I believe you?”

“Right.” Cam waved the bartender over. “Another Southern Gentleman, please.”

“Mr. Mitchell, Far Horizons could use a man like you. And not just for your talent at languages. You were a pilot in the Air Force, isn’t that right?”

Cam had the sneaking suspicion that Dr. Weir already knew everything about him, from his first steps to that final failed test flight that had ended his career. (The military didn’t, generally speaking, encourage talk about aliens, much less abductions that happened in the middle of a test that cost the US Government millions of dollars in hardware.)

Dr. Weir continued once Cam nodded in answer to her question. “Far Horizons is going to need some good pilots very soon. People we can count on, that don’t mind taking a risk. Our benefits are unbeatable.”

“I’ll just bet they are,” Cam muttered. His drink arrived, and he tossed it back in one go, the bourbon going down smooth.

“Just think it over. That’s all I’m asking.” Dr. Weir slid a business card over and tucked the edge of it under his coaster. “I look forward to hearing from you.”

She slid gracefully from the stool and walked off, eye-catching in her red power suit. Cam picked up the card and studied it. He wondered if he was ready to take back the sky.

*o*o*o*

“You’ll never take me alive, Wolf!” Vala snarled. She raised her sword and glared at Aiden.

“Suit yourself,” Aiden replied, dropping his voice almost a full octave and giving it a raspy edge.

He pointed his blaster and pulled the trigger. It made a _pew, pew, pew_ noise, but despite the close proximity he missed Vala. She moved fast, body sinewy as a snake, and tagged his arm with the foam sword. Pretty impressive, considering how little rehearsal time they’d had.

Aiden won the day, of course. His plastic, battery-operated blaster finally felled Vala, who died very dramatically on stage. Aiden never was much for karaoke; singing wasn’t really in his skill set. So he liked to do reenactments of scenes from his now-defunct TV series. The fans loved it.

He took Vala’s hand and together they bowed to the very generous applause.

“Come along, Wolfman,” Vala said. “Buy a girl a drink.”

They moved through the crowd to the bar, where Vala ordered them both some ridiculous blender drink with cherries and umbrellas and a lot of rum. It was delicious. Aiden plucked out his umbrella and tucked it in Vala’s hair.

“Now you’re ready to party,” he said with a grin.

They’d met at a convention three years ago and become fast friends, bonding over their love for Aiden’s show. Vala knew more about it than the writers did, Aiden was pretty sure. She never admitted it, but he suspected she was one of the fanfic writers.

“You were great up there.”

Aiden turned to look at the man who’d spoken. He was wearing the distinctive gold-colored lanyard that marked the VIPs but was otherwise a complete stranger in a three-piece suit.

“I’m great everywhere,” Vala said with a smirk.

The guy reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a little leather case full of business cards, handing each of them one.

“Reese Fullman, I represent SEI productions.”

SEI. Aiden had heard of them. “That’s a new streaming service, right?”

“It’s so much more than that. SEI is poised to blow Netflix and Hulu out of the water. We have an enormous budget for original programming.” Reese tucked the case back in his pocket and smoothed a hand down the front of his suit. “The CEO is a particularly big fan of _Wraith_. He’d love to work with you.”

“I do more than scifi,” Aiden said. _Wraith_ had seemingly pigeon-holed him, and most of the work he was getting now was as a guest star on various scifi series. And that one small part on the new Star Trek movie.

“Ms. Evans will let you choose your own project.”

Wow. That was huge. Aiden looked at Vala, who shrugged back at him. 

“Can we set up a meeting?” Reese asked. Now he had his phone out, tapping away at it with both thumbs.

“Yes! Of course. That would be great!”

Aiden pulled his own phone out so they could coordinate a date and time, just one week away. Reese shook his hand, nodded at Vala, and melted back into the crowd.

“Did that just happen?” Vala reached over and pinched him on the arm, hard. Okay, so he hadn’t dreamed it. He held up the business card. “Hey, Vala. Wanna be on TV?”

**Roof of the DeChancie Convention Center**

Rodney normally wasn’t an optimistic kind of guy. He was always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for things to take a turn for the worse. But everything seemed to be going his way for a change. He had a damn fine job offer on the table and had hooked up with a cute convention goer; John was insanely flexible in bed.

Maybe, if he cleared this Far Horizons business off his schedule, he and John could have another go before it was time to head back home.

It was hot up on the roof, even so far past sunset. Dr. Weir was standing a few feet away from her helicopter, which had the Far Horizons logo painted on the side. He’d texted her just in the nick of time, before she jetted off to Dubai.

“You have an answer for me?” Dr. Weir asked when Rodney got close enough.

“I want in,” Rodney replied.

“Excellent. I’ll call the show producers tomorrow to discuss your contract. How soon can you come to corporate to sign the paperwork?”

“Not corporate,” Rodney said. “I don’t care where the bigwigs work. I want to see the labs, the hangars. I want to see what kind of people I’ll be working with.”

He wasn’t backing down, either. If Far Horizons wanted him badly enough, they’d give him whatever he asked for. Besides, it wasn’t an unreasonable request. Dr. Weir agreed with him.

“Of course. I’ll have my assistant make the arrangements. Text me your available dates.” She recorded a brief reminder note to herself on her phone before slipping it back into her pocket. “Now if only my pilot would get here. I’m on a very tight schedule.”

“Well, I won’t keep you.”

“Thank you, Dr. McKay.” Dr. Weir shook his hand. “I promise you won’t regret this.”

“I won’t, but you might.” Rodney turned around and literally stumbled over John, who had snuck up behind him. “What are you doing here?”

“Rodney? Hey.”

“John. It’s time to go,” Dr. Weir said.

Rodney looked at her, looked at the helicopter, and looked back at John. “Chauffeur?”

John grinned and shrugged. “Kinda.”

“You work for Far Horizons? What are you, part of the benefits package?”

“Did Liz offer you a job?” John countered. 

“Don’t answer my question with another question!”

There was the other shoe, dropping. Of course John hadn’t been a random hookup. A guy that good looking? Rodney had to hand it to Dr. Weir. That was some pretty underhanded bargaining.

“Gentleman, I have a very important time table.” Dr. Weir held up her hand to show off her very expensive watch. “Dr. McKay, John just flew me here. I’m not in the habit of discussing new hires with him. John, Dr. McKay is coming to work for us. I trust you to be on your best behavior. Now let’s go.”

She climbed into the helicopter and buckled herself in.

“Welcome to the team, Rodney,” John said with a grin.

“Team?” Rodney echoed, still trying to make sense of what was happening.

“Who do you think is going to fly the space shuttle?” He leaned over and gave Rodney a quick kiss. “As soon as you get settled, I’ll show you my… _best_ behavior.”

He waggled his eyebrows in a ridiculous manner, and then he was getting in the helicopter too. Rodney stood back a safe distance as the rotors started to turn.

He still wasn’t convinced John hadn’t been used as bargaining chip of some kind, but even Rodney had to admit it was effective. He wanted to see John again, and if they were working together that would certainly expedite things. 

And maybe he’d see about making use of John’s mathematical brain and not just his flyboy skills.

**The Pink Slipper Bar and Karaoke Lounge**

It was almost time for the VIP event to end, which would close out the convention for another year. Kay was so glad that Leah had talked her into spending the extra money on VIP tickets, because everything had been amazing. Dr. Jackson had sung _I Will Survive_ with the alien abduction guy, and Aiden Ford had acted out a scene from his own show. 

The only thing that would make it better would be finding the bathroom before she peed her pants. Where the heck was it?

Kay stumbled around a corner into some kind of storage room and came up short when she saw Colonel O’Neill talking to a…oh. No. Whoever he was with, they weren’t talking. They were making out like teenagers. That was unexpected.

She tried to sneak back the way she came but she bumped into one of the oversized, heavy plastic pink high heels that seemed to be everywhere, cursing when she whacked her hip against it.

Oh. Colonel O’Neill had been getting it on with Dr. Jackson.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“I’m looking for the bathroom?”

Dr. Jackson nodded. “You made a left instead of a right. Easy fix.”

“Thanks.” Kay turned to leave, but the two men were already back kissing each other.

Holy crap. Kay knew something probably no-one in the whole world knew. Leah was going to flip out! She wondered if she should Tweet about it but decided not to as she got in line for the bathroom. Both men were really nice, and she didn’t want to out them if they didn’t want to be outed.

They were so cute together, though.

When she finished with the bathroom, Kay went in search of Leah. Giorgio was up on stage, his hair taller than Kay had ever seen it. How did he get it to do that? He was in the middle of talking, microphone in his hand.

“…but of course Ancient Astronaut theorists say…”

“Yes!” shouted the crowd, followed by a rousing cheer.

Best convention ever!

**Author's Note:**

>  **AN:** This is a birthday gift for my dear friend smiles2go, who knows the power of Giorgio’s hair. ::grins:: I hope you have a great birthday, sweetie!
> 
> My undying gratitude to nagi_schwarz and SherlockianSyndromes, who helped me brainstorm a plot when my mental train derailed. #supersquad


End file.
